Rain
by RainynDawn
Summary: A witch ponders a lost love in the September rain as it beats steadily down on her, not knowing that it just might provide her with what she needed most...him. HGSB ONESHOT


**DISCLAIMER: I, the one and only Meia Crites, do not own anything remotely related to the all powerful Harry Potter. That extreme honor belongs to J.K. Rowling who I'm sure will not share any of her money with me. Pity...**

**A/N: Just a one-shot that resulted from the blubbering of an idiot (me) Bear with me please and don't forget to review. I always appreciate it!**

Rain.

The cleanser of all. Just as it washed away the blood off of the crimson-stained ground after the final war where Harry had finally defeated Voldemort, it now washed away any and all traces of the tears she had cried.

The night wind of September bit into her bones, causing her to shiver, but she didn't notice. Her attention, her thoughts, were lost as she remembered the events that transpired on this very same night a year ago. Her nineteenth birthday...

It had been such a wonderful day. The war was over and there had been very few casualties. The Golden Trio had survived the perilous battle that had claimed the lives of Percy and Ginny Weasley among others that had went to school with them, but the battle had also brought back some people. Sirius Black had shown up in the heat of battle, fresh as a twenty-five year old with no explanation of how he ended up that way.

They had accepted his help graciously, though, and welcomed him with open arms. There must be a reasonable explanation, they all said, he's alive, be happy. They had all smiled at him and welcomed him into the headquarters. All except Hermione.

She had watched him closely there after, forever casting suspicions about him. Now, had she once had stopped and thought about this obsession she had formed over the newly requited Sirius Black, she would have seen the red flags. But she, in her constant observation, did not stop to think of the consequences of her actions.

She had, she supposed, formed sort of an attraction to Harry's godfather during the months following his return. Her surveillance had made her see all sides of the notorious Sirius Black, though some she admittedly was scared to explore further. For all Remus' talk on how much the animagus was a "lady's man" during their Hogwarts' days, Sirius appeared nothing of the such. In fact, he appeared quite the opposite to her.

Sirius had no women in his life from the time he appeared magically to the time of Hermione's nineteenth birthday party. Remus had told her that Sirius had told him that he was trying to find that one woman to spend the rest of his life with. Hermione, though she didn't fully believe it, considered his words and realized that he could have been telling the truth.

But Hermione still had no answers. She was, on that day a year ago, nineteen. Being told that she was the smartest witch of her age depressed her even more as she realized that she couldn't figure one mystery out. Why and how did Sirius Black escape from the confines of the veil and reappear during the war as a twenty-five year old? She just didn't know and that bothered her.

Hermione was always one for answers so on her nineteenth birthday party when she found herself alone in a room with the one and only Sirius Black, she prepared herself to get the answers that she so desperately craved. Only she got so much more.

--------------------------

Sirius rose his head as he heard the door clicking shut. He knew who it would be, he had been waiting for this confrontation for months now. But for some reason, she had stalled.

But how she had watched him. He could feel her eyes trained on him in any crowded room. He knew she was there, waiting, watching. He could feel her.

"Hello Hermione," he said softly as his black eyes met her chocolate orbs, melting away their confidence a little. He was pleased to see that the familiar fire remained in her eyes, though she looked a little weary of questioning him now that she was in the same room as him and alone.

"Hello Sirius," Hermione returned, meeting his gaze head on. "I was hoping to talk to you tonight."

Sirius smirked. He bet she was. "Happy birthday, love."

Hermione paused and gazed at him questioningly. "Thank you," she said quietly, her eyes probing his.

Sirius scooted over on the small loveseat he was occupying and patted the space beside of him, offering her a seat which she hesitantly took. She propped herself up against the arm and turned towards him. Sirius turned towards her, preparing himself for the questions she was going to ask him.

"I was wondering..."

"No," Sirius interrupted and Hermione gazed at him, an eyebrow raised. "Excuse me?" she asked, her mouth drawn in a stern line. Sirius noticed at that moment how much the young Gryffindor graduate resembled her former Head of House at that moment.

"No, I do not know how or why I came through the veil," Sirius said slowly, his lips drawn in their familiar smirk as he gazed at the young woman in front of him. She had grown up the most, physically and mentally, since the beginning of her Hogwarts' days. The war had, of course, caused all of them to grow up faster but it appeared that Hermione had taken it upon herself to learn as much as she can so she can protect her loved ones.

The side of her mouth threatened to turn up into a smile but she fought the urge, though her eyes still held vivid amusement as she asked, "How did you know that that was what I was going to ask?"

Sirius shrugged, a playful grin illuminating his face. "Man's intuition?"

"Isn't it supposed to be a woman's intuition?" Hermione teased, a smile gracing her features. Sirius shrugged and smiled brightly at her, "Maybe. But still, that was what you were going to ask, wasn't it."

The sultry smile disappeared and Hermione leaned back, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "I just don't understand," she muttered softly, her brows furrowed as she stared intently at her hands. Hermione Granger, star pupil at Hogwarts, didn't like to admit that she didn't understand something and found that she could not, would not, meet Sirius' gaze as she admitted the awful truth.

Sirius reached out and, with a hand placed firmly on her chin, made her look at him. Chocolate met black. "Do you have to understand?"

"Yes." That one single word seemed to be torn from Hermione as she gazed at him. She wanted, no, needed to understand what had brought him back. There were too many unanswered questions and she was...she was terrified of the truth.

Sirius leaned forward slightly, his eyes studying her. "Why?" he asked softly, his voice barely audible but she heard him just the same. The degree in which he asked made her want to answer more than anything and she soon found herself spilling out the awful truth.

"What if this is all a dream? What if we wake up tomorrow and you're gone? If you disappear, everyone is going to be torn up and sad again, and...and I cannot allow myself to dare to fantasize that you may be here with us forever and then suddenly you're drawn back into the veil. I can't, Sirius, and I won't."

Sirius stared at the broken girl in front of him, his heart breaking as crystal tears filled her chocolate eyes and spilled down her porcelain cheeks. "I won't disappear again, Hermione, I promise you..."

"How can you promise that Sirius?" she cried, her voice breaking with emotion. She wiped fiercely at the treacherous tears that streamed down her face, forcing the emotion from behind her eyes. "The truth is that you're just as scared as me. You don't understand this any more than I do and you have the same worries that I do- that one day you might wake up and find yourself back in the veil. Admit it Sirius."

"Alright!" Sirius cried, jumping to his feet. He turned on her, his black eyes flashing with an unknown emotion, his hands clenched at his side as he gazed down at her. "Alright, you want me to admit it Hermione, I do. I'm scared. In all technicality, I should have died but I didn't. I can't explain it, you can't explain it, Dumbledore can't explain it, no one can. But that doesn't matter. Not to me. The only thing that I care about at this moment is that I have these few precious moments with people that I love and care for. I'll be damned if I let anything tear that away from me again."

Hermione stared at the man in front of her. His eyes, his whole body projected the intensity of his feelings. How could she ever had doubted him? But she didn't, a little voice niggled at the back of her brain. Truly she didn't doubt him, she was...obsessed with the truth and, in turn, became obsessed with the very same passionate man in front of her.

Hermione stood up in front of him. With wide, searching eyes, she studied him. She read his soul and so much more. Every feeling that he possessed was in his eyes, open for her to see, to read.

With a steady hand, Sirius reached out and brushed a curl from her cheek, letting his finger linger there for a moment longer than necessary. Hermione closed her eyes and a soft sigh of content escaped her lips.

"Do you want to know what I'm really scared of Hermione?"

Hermione forced herself to open her eyes and look at him. His face was inches away from hers; she could feel his sweet breath caressing her cheek, his eyes possessing her. She nodded deftly, her eyes never leaving his.

"I'm afraid of losing you," he whispered before his lips connected with hers, their tongues beginning a sweet dance.

-------------------------

The cold air shocked Hermione back into the present, the rain still whipping fiercely at her face. She numbly reached up and whipped the rain mixed with her salty tears from her eyes.

She remembered that night well; it was the night that she lost everything, but gained everything in return. That was the night that she had realized the reason that she watched him so. That was also the night that she left, leaving behind all her friends and no note to inform them of her location.

You see, that night Hermione realized that Sirius Black was not "Harry's godfather" in her eyes. No, he was so much more. She had indivertibly fell in love with the convicted murderer and Azkaban escapee.

But she had ran away for one simple reason. She knew that he could never feel the same for her, she had seen it in his eyes when she whispered it softly during their moment of passion, that forlorn look only worn by a man scared of commitment and trust.

He didn't love her; he couldn't love her and Hermione accepted that simple fact. But to her, if she had to hear those very words escape past his lips, her heart would break into tiny little pieces that she knew she would never be able to mend.

So she ran.

Not the most logical decision, she admitted, but at the moment it had seemed like the right one. While Sirius' fell into a deep sleep after their love-making, Hermione had stealthily escaped from his imprisoning arms and snuck out of the room, then the house.

No one, much to Hermione's disappointment, had so much as tried to find her after she disappeared. That, she thought to herself, hurt more than anything.

So, tonight, on her twentieth birthday with the rain beating steadily down on her, Hermione sat outside her small flat under the night sky and thought of her friends and what they were doing at that very moment. No doubt they were having a ball without her, she thought bitterly then mentally scolded herself for such a thought. She had, with every ounce of intelligence she possessed, made it almost physically possible to track her to her present location, the one thing she was almost regretting doing now that she reflected upon it.

It was her twentieth birthday and Hermione felt older than ever, and lonelier than ever too. She missed her friends, she missed Hogwarts, but more importantly, she missed Sirius. And that, that bothered her.

The rain washed the built up dirt off the sidewalk and Hermione watched with a morbid fascination as it ran down the drain. Such a simple thing, rain. It washed away the dirtiest of stains in a short time period. If only life could be that simple...

"Hermione?"

The soft voice broke through Hermione's reverie and made her shiver. That voice... The husky baritone could only belong to one man and one man only- the love of her life.

She raised her eyes to meet the steady black ones staring down at her. "Sirius," she asked, her voice breaking as she drank in his appearance, enjoying his presence.

Sirius frowned as he took in her drenched appearance. Her hair was plastered to her face; her sopping clothes clung to her body, hugging her curves like a lover; her eyes, a rich espresso, the color they appeared when she was crying. "What are you doing out in the rain?"

Hermione shrugged, glancing down the street to escape his probing eyes. "Just thinking, I guess."

Sirius arched an eyebrow. "About?"

Hermione turned on him angrily. "Don't come here and act like everything is alright between us, Sirius, because it isn't! You know damn well what I was thinking about and why so don't come here pretending that you care."

His black orbs hardened. "I'm not pretending, Hermione, I do care. _You_ are the one that ran away. _You_ are the one that hid yourself here. _You_ are the one that never gave us a chance."

Hermione sighed and shoved the wet hair out of her face. "Then what are you doing here Sirius?"

"Well, you may not want to have company on your birthday, but I thought you should," he told her, his eyes holding no room for argument as he stared down at her. He was not going to back down from this particular fight.

Sighing, Hermione stood up and turned towards the door to her flat. "Well, might as well come in."

"I planned on it," Sirius said from behind her, very close to her ear. Hermione spun around, coming face to face with him. He was very close to her and she was sure that he was aware of how uncomfortable she was though he made no move to step back.

Hermione refused to give into him and instead turned back towards the door. With great resound, she opened it up and walked in, leaving it open for him to follow which he did. He remained closely behind her all the way into the kitchen.

"Do you want anything?" Hermione asked politely.

Sirius looked her over, appraising her appearance slowly with a critical eye. "Maybe you should go put on some dry clothes first," he suggested lightly, though the look he gave her told her plainly that he would not take no for an answer.

"Why don't you let me worry about myself," she bit out harshly, her words sharp with malice. "I'm twenty now, Sirius, not four."

"Then why don't you have enough sense to stay out of the rain?" he returned quickly, his black eyes narrowing on her. "Don't you know that you can catch pneumonia or do you just not care about your health?"

"I care about my health," Hermione replied stiffly, drawing herself up to try to meet his height. "I just had a lot on my mind and outside seemed like a good place to think about it."

"In the rain?" he asked sardonically.

Hermione bristled. "As a matter of fact, yes, in the rain. I find it's very calming."

Sirius didn't reply to that. Instead, he took a seat at the bar and gazed at her expectantly. "Well?" he asked after a couple of minutes.

"Well what?"

"Aren't you going to go change?"

Hermione glared at him but she knew that it was a hopeless battle to argue with him. A soft growl emitted from her throat as she turned on her heel and stormed down the hall to go change. Her irritation grew further as she heard Sirius chuckling behind her.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione emerged from her room dressed in a pair of jeans and a light blue sweater. Her hair was dried thanks to a handy drying spell with an anit-frizz charm that Lavender had taught her in their 7th year. She found she liked the soft curls that her hair formed when it was not bushy.

She walked back into the kitchen to find that Sirius had took off his wet jack, depositing it on the back of a nearby chair, and was fixing coffee and something on the stove that, to Hermione, smelled delicious.

"I thought you'd would like something warm," Sirius said, not turning around, "so I found some pasta and sauce to fix. I hope you like it."

"Thank you," Hermione said softly, taking a seat upon a bar stool.

She studied him as he moved around, fixing the pasta. He looked, if possible, more handsome than last year. His hair was a tad bit longer and shaggier but it gave him a rugged appearance, an appearance that Hermione found herself liking too much. He had filled out more with muscles. No doubt he had been either spending time with Harry and Ron playing Quidditch or was working out. She wondered what he was doing now.

"I'm a fully trained Auror now," Sirius said as if he had read her thoughts. "Harry's my partner. We've been working together for about eleven months now. Ron's is the keeper for the Chudley Cannons and is doing remarkably well now that is confidence in himself is up."

Hermione knew that last bit. She had been reading the magazine articles and any news clippings on the Chudley Cannons for a while now and could not be happier for her redheaded best friend. He was going to go far.

"They miss you though," Sirius said softly, still with his back facing her. He turned his head to look at her over his shoulder. "I miss you."

Hermione looked down. She could not face his probing eyes, not know. She felt horrible for leaving them already, but Sirius made her feel ten times worse with his soft spoken words and sad eyes. "I'm sorry..."

"About what exactly?" Sirius asked, turning away again. His voice was hard and impassive, and Hermione knew exactly what he was asking.

"Look Sirius, what happened between us,... I'm sorry..."

Sirius turned around, his black eyes filled with anger. "Well, I'm not. I'm not sorry for anything and you know what Hermione? I don't think I will ever regret it."

Hermione stared at his back while he fixed the pasta. If truth be known, she didn't regret it either, she was just...

Just what? she questioned herself. Ever since he had came back, her feelings have been in a jumbled mess and she could hardly make heads or tails of them. She didn't know how she felt about the whole issue, and some part of her didn't think she wanted to find out either.

"Where's the plates?" Sirius asked suddenly, drawing her from her thoughts.

"In the cupboard beside of the fridge," Hermione answered automatically.

She kept her eyes on the bar in front of her as she heard him shifting around to grab plates and forks. She didn't want to look at him and stir up old feelings that had best be kept under wraps, but the plate that appeared suddenly in front of her made her look up.

Black and chocolate, the familiar feelings stirring up. It was a familiar battle, fighting for confidence.

She broke away first, turning her eyes down to the plate of pasta in front of her. "Thank you," she muttered lamely, not daring to look back up.

"Eat up," he ordered, "it'll make you feel better."

Defiance caused her to look back up. "I feel fine as it is, thank you," she said hotly. "It is you who assumes that I'm suffering from pneumonia, not me."

He smirked a devilish grin. "Alright, then eat up to make me feel better about your health."

Hermione grumbled but took a bite of the pasta in front of her. The delicious taste filled her mouth, making her moan softly in pleasure.

As soon as she realized what she had done, she looked up at him. His eyes were filled with lust as he looked down at her, watching her closely. But there was something else in the black orbs too. Something she wasn't sure she wanted to identify.

"Delicious," she said softly, lowering her eyes back to her plate cowardly.

She heard him chuckle and turn around. "Thank you. Harry appreciates it since he's the only one I get to cook for now a days. Of course, Remus comes by occasionally but he generally likes to stick to meats and chocolate. And then there's Ron..."

"Who will eat anything you put in front of him no matter the taste," Hermione finished, laughing softly as she remembered her Hogwarts days and the many meals where she had to listen to Ron talk through a mouthful of food. Disgusting, really, yet she missed it just the same.

"Exactly," Sirius agreed. He filled up his own plate and sat across from her, eating heartedly.

When they finished, Hermione took up the plates much to Sirius' protests. "You cooked, I'll clean," she told him, trying to wrestle the plates from Sirius' grasps.

"But it's _your_ birthday," he returned, holding fast onto the plates.

"I don't' care." In the end, she won. She cleaned the plates while he waited for her in the sitting room.

She hurried with the dishes. She stuffed the plates hurriedly in the correct cupboard and then put away the cups. She dried off her hands and walked into the sitting room, finding him sitting on the loveseat and gazing at her.

"Sit," he said, patting the seat beside of him.

She reluctantly took it, sitting as far as possible from him. She hoped he wouldn't notice her reluctance to sit beside of him, but he did and didn't hesitate to point it out.

"Hermione," he said slowly, his voice a little cold, "we slept together, there's no need to act like I have a contagious disease or something."

"I...I...," she stumbled to find the right words to tell him that he was wrong, but he was right. So with a sigh, she sat closer to him, turning to face him. She knew that he was here for another reason under the guise that it was her birthday and he didn't want her to spend it alone.

But he did not reveal anything. Instead, he took his time in looking her over, memorizing every detail of her.

Hermione found that she could not take his scrutiny; it was like she was under inspection. "How's Harry?" she asked suddenly.

"He's...fine," Sirius said reluctantly. "He was confused and hurt when you left, Hermione. He didn't understand what could make you just hop up and leave like that without even a goodbye. He had lost so many people, and then he lost you too but he didn't understand why."

Hermione felt the tears begin to fill her eyes again but fought them back. "Did...did you explain to him why I left?"

Sirius nodded. "I did...I told him everything. I can't say that he took it well. After that, well...we had our troubles. It was about a month before he would talk openly me again, another month before he forgave me."

"I'm sorry, Sirius," she told him, "it wasn't your fault..."

"Wasn't it?" Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "I knew what I wanted from you and I took it, I didn't stop to consider the consequences or that you didn't want me, I just took."

"I never said that I didn't want you." Hermione looked down at her hands as she said that, not wanting him to see the truth in her eyes. She did want him, much more than she probably should actually.

"But you never said you did either," Sirius countered, a bitterness in his collected tone. "And I think that you leaving me the next morning answered all my questions about whether you wanted me or not, don't you?"

Hermione defiantly met his eyes, her own storming with her newly released anger. "No, Sirius, I don't think that minor detail answers anything at all. In fact, I'd prefer to forget it ever happened."

Her cool tone made him bristled, anger radiating from his body. Hermione, realizing that she had went to far, leaned away from him in hopes to not receive the blunt of his anger.

"You would, would you?" he asked dangerously, his voice low and emitting pure menace. "What part would you like to forget Hermione? The part where you came to me? The part where you kissed me back, hungrily I might add as if you couldn't get enough of it? The part where you pulled me down on you, letting me take every ounce of your innocence? Or was it the part where you woke up and left before I woke, running like a coward?"

Hermione worked her mouth as if searching to form an answer but words failed her as she stared at him. He was angry with her, and she did not blame him at all for it. She deserved it; she deserved every last ounce of his anger.

"I...I...," she stammered stupidly.

"What Hermione?" he drawled sarcastically. "Can't find an answer to a simple question? You are the one, after all, who said that you wanted to forget. Did I bring up one to many _pleasurable_ memories for your liking?"

"NO!" Hermione protested at once, her eyes wide as they begged him to see what she truly felt, what she couldn't find the words to express.

"Or do you just not want to admit the truth?" Sirius returned, his voice rising slightly with each word.

"What truth?" Hermione asked, looking at him intently. _What did he know?_ she wondered.

"That you're scared," Sirius stated nonchalantly.

He leaned back against the arm of the loveseat and observed her closely after he made that abrupt statement. Her mouth was opening and shutting quickly as she digested his words, trying to work it all out. Her eyes were wide, almost doe like, and her bottom lip quivered slightly.

"Speechless Hermione?" he teased. His black eyes shown with amusement as he watched her eyes darken at his teasing. "I never thought I'd see the day when Gryffindors own know-it-all was rendered speechless by a man she claims to have no feelings for."

That pushed her to far.

"Okay, first of all, I wasn't speechless. I was merely searching for how to tell you to go to hell. Second, what right do you have to call me a know-it-all when you were Gryffindors own, let me see if I get this right, man whore."

She watched as his jaw clenched in anger, but she did not stop there. No, she didn't stop there.

"Thirdly, I never said that I didn't have feelings for you. I may have said it was a mistake, which it was, but that doesn't mean that I don't have feelings for you. But now, after closer inspection, I'm not so sure that I do have any feelings for you. You, Sirius Black, Gryffindor man whore and lady's man, irritate me beyond anyone has ever..."

His lips crushed hers in a searing kiss, wiping the words from her mouth. She told herself that she should remain still, to not respond, but no sooner had his tongue touched her lips that she was parting them to allow him entry.

She responded to him, clinging to his shoulders for support. Her hands found their way into his hair, enjoying the silky feel of his locks. Their dance entered a familiar dance as if there had never been a one-year break.

He tore his mouth away from her. His breath, like hers, was coming in ragged gasps as he stared down at her, his eyes filled with lust. But he was holding himself back, though his arms remained locked around her waist.

"You're scared Hermione," he repeated, his mouth barely an inch away from hers, his eyes locked on hers.

Hermione closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again, void of any emotion as she stared at him. "I'm not scared, Sirius," she said defiantly, though she herself did not believe her own words of protest as they escaped her lips.

Sirius dropped his arms from her around her and stood up. He ran a steady hand through his hair and took a deep breath before turning to look down at her. "You are scared Hermione. You are scared to let yourself feel. I don't know why, but you are. Whenever you're ready to admit, come find me."

With that, Sirius turned and walked back through the kitchen, picking up his jacket he had earlier deposited on a chair, and walked out the front door into the pouring rain of the September night.

Hermione sat on the love seat, striken by his words. Was he right? Was she scared? Hermione did the one thing then that she had been dreading since last year: she analyzed her feelings for Sirius and about what happened.

As something clicked inside of her head, Hermione leaped up and ran out into the storm, the rain beating furiously against her. But she would not be deterred.

She looked right and left, searching for Sirius' familiar figuring in the darkness of the night, praying that he had decided that he needed the walk instead of apparating back to the Black House.

Luck was on her side as she spotted his familiar figure walking through the rain. "SIRIUS!" she shouted, but he did not slow or give any sign that he heard her what so ever.

Despite the fact that she was not wearing a jacket nor shoes, Hermione took off down the street through the rain. She did not notice the cold liquid as it seeped through her clothes and into her bones.

"Sirius!" she called again, hoping that he would hear her. Her hair was plastered to her face and the rain obscured her vision slightly. She didn't notice the salty taste of tears entering her mouth as she continuously called him.

She was almost to him when he turned around, confusion clearly written on his face. "Hermione...?"

"Shut up," she said quickly before bringing his head down so that their lips connected.

"You're right," she said as she pulled back slightly, "I am scared. I was scared that night, as I'm still scared now, of the feelings I have for you. Never have I felt like this before. When I'm with you, everything just seems right..."

"Hermione..."

"No, please, let me finish. That night, after we...well, you know, I was scared. Remus had told me, as did a number of other people, how you were like in your school days. I was scared that maybe I was just another notch in your bedpost so I thought that if I left before you left me that maybe it would hurt less. But...but I was wrong."

Hermione rose her eyes up to meet his, her eyes sparkling with tears. "When I left, there was a void, a bottomless pit that I knew would never be filled as long as I stayed away from you. I knew, as I know now, that I could never feel the way for another man the way I feel for you. I was scared to lose you, I'm still scared of losing you," she admitted softly.

"But why?" Sirius asked, his voice breaking with emotion.

"Because...I'm in love with you."

A whisper, barely even that, but Sirius had heard and groaned with relief as those words left her lips. He crushed his lips to hers, his tongue immediately seeking entrance to the warmth of her mouth. He held her close, crushing her body to his, afraid to let her go.

He broke away a little, the rain coursing down his face. "I love you Hermione, I always have. _You_ are what brought me back. _You_ are the only one that I love and could ever love."

They smiled at each other through the pouring rain, their eyes displaying the nature of their hearts. The kiss that insenued was a soft, sweet kiss that held a promise for the days to come.

Rain, the cleanser of all. Just as it washed away the blood off of the crimson-stained ground after the final war where Harry had finally defeated Voldemort, it now washed away the ill-spoken words between two lovers. It joined them together in a moment that neither would forget.

The rain fell steadily onto the couple as they stood there in the middle of the street, kissing under the bright moon that popped out from behind the cloud. Each had only eyes for each other, not noticing the rain.

_Finis._

**There it is. Hope you liked it. Only I, in my excessive blubbering, would come up with something as far out as this. Anyways, don't forget to review cause it will make me update Living in Yesterday's Dream all the quicker. No, I have not given up on it and yes I know I promised a chapter by Saturday but I've had a busy weekend with little "me" time so I'm intensly sorry and I beg your guys' forgiveness. Thanks for reading, as always, and review!**


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